


make it quick

by bunshima



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Creampie, M/M, Post-Canon, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Trans Male Character, uhhhh eat the hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20301121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunshima/pseuds/bunshima
Summary: It's nothing new that he has to play the part of honorable mention as the king's favourite courtesan, because goddess knows what hell would break loose if people knew.





	make it quick

**Author's Note:**

> hi fe3h tag, heres my humble porn-shaped offering
> 
> disclaimer: no beta, theyre both feral, there's mild spoiler for a thing or two but that's it basically

Back meets cold stone, bruising pressure exerted onto his shoulders by broad hands. It stings, but that's the best part. A heated rendezvous at the royal courtyard sounds just like what Claude needs after a strenuous journey back to the one person that ties him to Fódlan– 

_ Dimitri has no idea what he's doing to him, even after all these years. _

A remark over the other's uncharacteristic passion is about to roll off Claude's tongue, but a firm kiss prevents it from doing so. His fingers curl into the lustrous fur that the newly crowned King enjoys so much, holding him as close as possible. It's been a few months since they had last seen each other– but no matter how long his absence lasts, each stay still begins the same: Dimitri isn't a man of pretty words and prefers actions to express himself, especially when it comes to intimacy.  _ Claude wouldn't have it any other way, though.  _

It's dusk already, but he was unable to get _ His Kingliness _ away from  _ his kingly duties _ earlier than this.  **Much to his disdain. **

"You best make up for the wait.", Claude huffs after Dimitri broke their kiss and is now trailing pecks along the side of his neck. 

"It's cold, though.", the other states–  _ he knows well what is asked of him. _ "And I need to have a word with F–" 

_ "Make it quick, then." _

Though usually ever cheerful, he can't help but make his sour mood obvious.  ** _Sure,_ ** ruling over an entire continent is a big responsibility to carry–  _ that much Claude understands– _ but Dimitri needs to get that stick out of his ass…  _ at least for the duration of his visits.  _

With a soft grunt that sounds rather miffed, the other man pulls away from his neck to face him. The look Claude receives is as shamelessly lusting as it gets with Dimitri. His shallow breath hits his face in white puffs–  _ wow, it really is cold. _ It takes a bit more to stop him from having some well-deserved fun though. 

"I've missed you dearly.", the monarch tells him, his tone as heavy as his heart. 

Dimitri is as sentimental as they get, but at the same time one of his hands snuck between the two of them as he spoke, ever gently caressing Claude through the thick fabric of his trousers. He's sentimental with a dash of libido–  _ just the right mix for Claude's tastes. _ Nothing much has happened yet but it takes about every ounce of self control he can gather to keep himself from asking to be utterly wrecked. He already discovered that coming on too strong can ruin things for his lover and  _ he'd like to avoid that right now.  _

His jaw clenches as the other seems to find a good pace. Eyes flutter shut in bliss, his bottom lip caught between teeth, while Dimitri rubs his still clothed mound in generous circles. It's such a simple ministration but Claude is an equally simple man–  _ if it feels good, he'll take it. _ A soft hum wells up in his throat when the other man puts some more pressure into his actions, pressing Claude's back further against the stone. 

They're relatively well hidden underneath the richly crested archway that leads to the royal courtyard.  _ Relatively _ being the keyword. The entrance gate is right beside them, but Claude can't really arse himself to care.  _ Neither can Dimitri, as it seems.  _

With his hands still curled into the coat's thick fur, he gently pulls the other down, bringing him closer to himself. Although the archway protects the spot they're in from the wind, Claude wants the monarch as close as physically possible. He really missed the sheer body heat literally radiating off him.  _ The perfect excuse to stay in bed longer for those mornings where you just don't want to get up. _

The distinct rattling of his own belt buckle tears him from his wishful thinking about being Dimitri's small spoon for the rest of his life. Again, there's hot breath fanning over the skin of his neck which is soon followed by teeth carefully nipping at a few spots as a broad hand pushes its way past the waistband of his underwear. Dimitri's fingers are downright burning hot against his folds and the drastic change in temperature causes a shallow breath to hitch in Claude's throat. Sadly, something seems to have caught the other's attention, since he stops in his tracks seemingly to look down between them. 

_ Meh, he really could've used some more of those love bites. _

"You're..." Cue an awkwardly long pause from Dimitri's side as he carefully considers his choice of words.  _ "...soaked." _

Claude snorts loudly at that. "Ya make it sound like I just did goddess-knows-what,  _ jeez.", _ he replies with a soft chuckle, "Guess I'm just  ** _that_ ** happy to see you."

_ "Are you now." _

He doesn't know what to react to first: Dimitri's voice lowered to a husky growl or the fact that he's currently dragging a finger over his already swollen clit. Either way,  _ he gets a full-body shiver from both combined.  _ He's been mentally riling himself up with the memory of their last meeting for god knows how long–  _ probably since he was on his way straight to Fhirdiad–  _ hence why finally getting some action is near overwhelming for him. Dimitri likely noticed his strong reaction, considering that he puts minimal pressure into the circles he draws on his clit. He's  _ always _ considerate,  _ even like this. _

Perhaps Claude's perception of cute things is a bit different–  _ but goddamn, that's cute. _ It's always the little things that remind him of the fact that, deep down,  _ Dimitri is just an animate teddy bear, _ no matter his status or what he's been through. 

"What do you want me to do?", his lover whispers to him after a moment, his head close to the crook of his neck again. He's not trying to delve into dirty talk (goddess forbid– Dimitri would  **die** of embarrassment);  _ that's a genuine question. _

It's hard to form coherent words when one's head is swimming, so Claude doesn't even try to give a detailed reply.  _ "Jus' get me off." _

He gets a soft murmur in response, unable to catch any specific bits of what was said. 

Fingers curl into Dimitri's back as the other kicks his pace up a notch and gives him some more pressure in addition. There's moans trying to fight their way out of Claude but can't make it past his gritted teeth. His chest heaves, shoulders shaking with subtle tremors, while the tension in his abdomen keeps rising. Oh, how he missed that feeling–  _ it never feels quite like this when he gets off on his own.  _ Soon enough Claude has to press his face into Dimitri's shoulder to avoid making noise.  _ The last thing he needs right now is someone coming to check what the ruckus is about.  _

_ "D-Dima.", _ comes the first quiet moan that makes it out of Claude,  _ "Cumming." _

It starts in his legs and forces his toes to curl inside his boots before it creeps up his thighs, muscles tensing close to the point of cramping. Tingling befalls him, but it's nowhere near uncomfortable. If anything it just heightens the sensation in its entirety. Claude's entire frame coils at the sheer intensity of his climax, brows furrowing. Thank goddess there's a rather small but convenient ledge for him to rest some of his weight onto because his knees feel like they're about to cave in. His clit throbs beneath Dimitri's touch and he desperately clenches around nothing throughout his high. _If only he could convince his Highness to take things a bit further,_ but Dimitri strictly divides work and intimacy. He likely won't get more than this… but _maybe_ he can sway his resolve this one time. 

From one moment to the other, Claude's body tension is close to the negatives, as if he's made of pudding. Eventually he allows his mouth to fall open as he breathes all heavy, gently nuzzling into the crook of Dimitri's neck. A last shiver shakes him when the fingers caressing him withdraw, leaving him feeling horribly untouched not even a full second later. Driven by the mess of lesser thoughts clouding his mind, Claude is quick to pull away and takes hold of Dimitri's wrist. _ It's only right for him to clean up the mess he's made.  _ His lips close around the fingers he's gotten plenty wet with his slick, his tongue pressing against them as he gives an ever subtle suck. There's no words that could describe the twisted joy he feels when there's a beet-red hue sneaking it's way onto Dimitri's face, his Adam's apple bobbing out of sheer nervosity. 

Claude pulls the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, then presses a gentle peck to the other's palm and holds it close to the side of his face, all while never taking his eyes off him even for a moment.  _ However, he'd be damned if he stopped there.  _

"Want me to touch you, too?", he asks with his voice lowered to no more than a rough whisper. 

Whereas Dimitri's question earlier was completely genuine and of only the purest intentions,  _ Claude is a bit different in that regard; _ in this case it's a half-hearted attempt at rather tame dirty talk  **and** a way to gauge the other man's mood. Some days Dimitri just doesn't want to be touched below the belt and upsetting him in that regard is the last thing he wants. 

Dimitri withdraws his hand from Claude's face, averts his gaze in addition. There's silence between them during which the monarch chews on his bottom lip while the blush on his face becomes darker. Every outsider would assume they've never gone all the way together, but Claude vividly remembers many sleepless nights in the best sense possible. Dimitri is just…  ** _shy._ ** And scared of his own strength. 

"Whatcha thinking about?", Claude asks as he gently coaxes Dimitri between his legs while sitting on the ornate ledge, shins dangling off it. Based off his silence, he assumes that there's something on his mind that he doesn't dare voice  _ just yet.  _ Wouldn't be the first time.

Yet again, it takes every single ounce of his self control to keep himself from begging Dimitri to fuck him, because in their current position he can feel his dick against his crotch.  _ He's rock-hard. _ Claude's thighs quiver ever slightly in sheer arousal from that observation, his breath hitching within his throat. That isn't making things easier on his composure at all. In fact, Claude can even feel his clit throb at the mere thought of being filled, albeit to his disdain, since there's no way he'll get some in this situation.  _ Or so he thinks. _

"... Are you...  ** _'safe'_ ** right now?", Dimitri eventually inquires, all meek and hesitant. 

_ Oh. Oh,  _ ** _wait a sec there._ **

_ "Yup.", _ Claude responds and his steeled self control slips from his grasp, causing a knowing grin to creep onto his expression. It's quite clear what Dimitri is trying to get at. 

"I started taking the capsules again a week ago,  _ like I  _ ** _always_ ** _ do.",  _ he adds. _ Long live the progress in contraceptives. _ Capsules made of bee wax are hard to swallow but at least the taste isn't as much of a problem as it was with any concoctions on the market.  _ The memory of the taste on its own makes him want to gag. _

Cue the monarch clearing his throat at his reply, looking down the way to the courtyard and then turning his head towards the gate. His gaze lingers for a moment, then returns to Claude. 

**"Alright,** just… Just promise me to be quiet."

_ Well, if that's the only thing he's gotta do. _ Claude doesn't think twice about getting into his feet, fumbling to get his pants out of the way. He doesn't take them off all the way, simply pulls them along with his underwear over one of his boots and leaves them to fall around his other ankle. 

Dimitri doesn't seem willing to waste any time either–  _ aaaaand here comes that terrifying strength to play. _ With downright horrifying ease, Dimitri just hoists him up by his legs like he weighs absolutely nothing. Claude actually jolts at that in surprise, almost throwing both of them off balance when his reaction startles the other man. They've been together for a few years already, but he's never going to get used to the fact that his man is as strong as three ox.  _ It's equal parts scary and hot. _

"Easy there.", Claude chides, now that he's been sentenced to his spot between a rock and a hard place  _ with his ass out, _ one of his legs awkwardly hooked over his lover's shoulder while he simply left the other to press against his side. The position is  _ everything _ but ideal– but  **meh,** good enough.

_ "Sorry." _

An ever gentle peck is pressed to the corner of his mouth, then to his lips as to make up for the little mishap just now and Claude uses that opportunity to its fullest, capturing Dimitri in a needy and open-mouthed kiss. He earns himself a soft moan in the process, leaving him unable to keep himself from grinning again. In the heat of the moment his lover presses him harder into the wall, further deepening their passionate embrace. As the other seems to be completely losing himself in the moment, one of Claude's hands slip downward, first absentmindedly caressing his mound before moving on to playing with himself in a similar manner–  _ and  _ ** _goddamn,_ ** _ he's wet. _ Dimitri wasn't exaggerating when he said he's soaked.

They break their kiss soon enough–  _ praised be the goddess, since Claude feels like gonna burn up– _ and Dimitri's attention ends up going straight to the movement between them. Cue his face going from just a little red around the cheekbones to straight up crimson all over.  _ Even the ears. _

"A-am I too slow for your tastes?"

A soft snort follows, accompanied by an ever rare  _ genuine _ smile. Dimitri really has no right to be…  _ well,  _ ** _Dimitri._ ** There are many words to describe him"I would've complained already if that were the case, wouldn't I?"

But before his lover gets to agree to that, Claude has already started palming him through his pants, effectively cancelling out every coherency in his head;  _ he knows how it is. _ Everytime they get to the fondling it's almost like Dimitri finally manages to block out certain thoughts that go through his head pretty much all day and all night– but also every other process up there,  _ which may or may have not led to breaking some of the furniture in his kingly chambers,  _ but that's a story to recall for a different time.

Claude receives no verbal answer, only another peck to his lips, soon followed by a whole series of them. Dimitri loves kissing to the point where it's ridiculous, but he can't possibly complain about that, especially when it's one of the few things his lover allows himself to enjoy properly. While his mouth is kept busy, one of Claude's hands slips into Dimitri's pants in order to get to the  _ good stuff. _

"Hope my hands aren't too cold.", he whispers in between kisses as he pulls the other's cock out, gingerly stroking him. 

_ No reaction.  _ Huh. Seems like they're fine. 

The monarch shudders in his grasp when he starts lubing him up with some saliva (and noticeable haste), although they don't need much with how wet he is. Dimitri eventually stops pecking at his lips, his face quickly returning to its spot at the crook his neck. Hot breath fans over Claude's skin, joined by soft moans right by his ear. His lover's voice is no more than a deep purr; it's no wonder there's actually hairs rising on his neck and a shiver running down his spine from the sound of it. 

However, as much as he enjoys this whole thing, there's  _ something _ stinging at the pit of his gut–  _ impatience is eventually setting in. _

Ever tender, his free hand snakes over Dimitri's nape, his nails digging into the skin there as he begins to whispers anew,  _ "Do I have to beg for it now?" _

"Asking nicely will do, too." 

_Oh wow,_ _is he getting bold? _

Dimitri says that, but Claude can already feel him shift in his spot as to line up their hips properly. Usually, he would delve into some teasing just to annoy him, but the journey has drained him of his wits and most of his mischievous attitude. Claude takes a moment to gather himself, as to give Dimitri the softest tone of voice he can muster.  _ He's about to go all out.  _

"Won't you ** please** fuck me?", comes his request in a voice as sweet as honey, yet with a sultry undertone.  _ "We have a few weeks to catch up on after all."  _

The fact that he only hears a choked groan right by his ear in response instills him with confidence, a lopsided grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. When he can feel a careful nudge to his wet folds, Claude puts his arm tighter around Dimitri's shoulders while its counterpart remains resting down his body, his fingers sliding down to spread himself. As heated as their rendezvous was at the start, things are slowly cooling down between them; Claude is certainly feeling it. Whereas he couldn't wait to get his brains fucked out mere minutes ago, he's starting to get this weird craving to hold Dimitri's hand as his lover proclaims his undying love to him while they…  ** _make love. _ **

_ Oh,  _ ** _ew._ **

Had it not been for the fact that he's about to get some, Claude would've physically recoiled at his own thoughts. Not that he isn't the romantic type, he just gets  _ deeply embarrassed  _ over genuinely enjoying cheesy romance stuff. Just like Dimitri gets embarrassed over anything that goes beyond missionary. Truly, it's a  **match.**

He would've continued with that train of thought, but is effectively stopped from doing so when Dimitri starts easing the tip into him. Right away, Claude's hand claws into his shoulder blade, jaw clenching and eyes squeezing shut in anticipation for what's about to come. There's already an ever subtle stretch that's chasing a shiver first up, then down up his spine– _ and  _ ** _boy,_ ** _ is it making it hard to stay quiet. _

A bit more than the tip enters him, forcing him to draw in a breath through gritted teeth but his mouth falls open right after, even with his steeled self control. It's times like these where he's calm that Dimitri favors going slow above all else;  _ he would've woken up the entire castle by now if he didn't. _ By the time he's given half of his lover's cock Claude's forehead has sunken against Dimitri's shoulder, his fingers digging into the fur of the other's cloak like his life depends on it as his legs wrench tight around his frame. 

_ And Dimitri has the  _ ** _audacity_ ** _ to make him wait. _

"Do you want me to st–" 

Claude doesn't even wait for him to finish his question, cuts him off,  ** _"All of it." _ **

His wish is paid heed to and their hips are carefully brought together all the way, causing both to groan. In the end, Claude's other hand also settles for clawing at Dimitri's back, now holding the poor guy in a deadlock with all four of his limbs. Then, he feels him withdraw– it's downright  _ painful, _ makes him whine softly– before Dimitri thrusts back into him all the way a moment later. The sensation on its own could drive him insane (well, it's already driving him up the wall, that much is certain). Claude chokes on the air within his windpipe, desperate to keep every sound in as much as he can.

Dimitri grunts beside his ear. Teeth gently nibble at his skin as the other sets a slow pace. His lover pushes into him another time, but this time with more force. A rough shudder shakes his frame, his legs jolt. If there's any more pressure from his jaw, his teeth might just shatter.  _ It's been two thrusts and they already pretty much did him in.  _ He'd be embarrassed if he actually gave a shit. Another time, Dimitri shifts in his spot, but then continues right where he left of–  _ and that's what  _ ** _really_ ** _ does Claude in.  _

It's only a slight change in his angle, but the next movement causes every single one of his muscle fibers to grow rigid. A moan eventually manages to fight its way out of his throat. Every little inch of his skin is covered in goosebumps.  _ Wow, what the fuck. _ He can't even begin to fathom what his lover is doing to him because each of the other's ministrations fills his head with mind-numbing euphoria and ecstasy alike, leaving him unable to grasp a coherent thought. 

He barely manages to keep his moans down to an acceptable volume and if his dying keens aren't what betrays them, then the obscenely loud squelching of his cunt certainly will be just that. He's well past the point of soaked and went straight to dripping;  _ he can feel it wetting the back of his ass.  _ Almost seems like  _ someone _ did some research while they were apart because  ** _mother of all that is holy,_ ** he can't recall that the sex they've had prior  _ ever _ felt like this– not to say that Dimitri is bad in bed, but this is a whole different level compared to what he's familiar with.

And if that wasn't enough, his climax is definitely closing in on him, causing his entire abdomen to strain like a leather strap close to snapping–  _ even without playing with his clit. _ Judging by the sensation on its own, he must be beyond tight–  _ hell, he's  _ ** _sure_ ** _ of it; _ the friction from Dimitri's thursts are  **divine.** His thighs quiver horribly as he jolts each time his lover  _ hammers _ deep into him.  _ Yep, that's gonna bruise in more ways than one. _ Claude didn't even noticed that his own moans died down, now only soft sobs leaving him while his face is buried into the crook of the other's neck. Again, he can't help but notice the tension in his entire lower half, but it seems to get even worse–  _ until something snaps within him. _

Saying that he's not quite prepared for when his absolutely crushing climax hits is the understatement of the century.  _ He's going to scream. _ He knows it before it strikes him.

Claude's teeth dig into the small stretch of Dimtri's skin close to his neck that ended up exposed during their make out, to which the other man moans, hips stuttering as he struggles to keep his pace steady. Fists curl tight into fur, trembling from the sheer pressure his muscles are exerting against their will. And even with a bit of his unfortunate sweetheart between his flews, Claude's impassioned howling is only  _ muffled,  _ not completely  **drowned out** as he had hoped. Surprisingly, Dimitri joins in with his own badly concealed wails of pleasure. 

_ Surely something must've happened to staying quiet along the way. _

Soon enough, Dimitri's movements are reduced to frantic rutting, his broad hands having a death grip on Claude's frame as he fucks him hard and deep. He can't stop himself from yelping when the other slams into him a last time, pressing into him as far as physically possible. As civilized as both may seem in broad daylight, Claude can't deny that the feeling of Dimitri's cock throbbing inside him, filling him to the brim with his seed, instills him with downright animalistic lust. Most times that sinful thought on its own is enough to make him shiver after it accompanied him through sleepless nights  _ without Dimitri,  _ but it can never beat the real deal.

And then, from one moment to the other, the two of them still in their spot, both doing their best to get their breathing back into check. 

Claude is the first to recover a fraction of his strength, even managing to utter a soft laugh, "By the goddess, did you do some homework for me or something?"

"Maybe so.", comes Dimitri's response and he sounds absolutely breathless, like he just took a jog from Fhirdiad to the Monastery and back.

He allows his head to fall back against the archway, a content sigh causing his chest to heave. "I'm gonna be so goddamn sore tomorrow, but...  _ that was _ ** _ amazing."_ **

Cue a pause, filled of his lover's coarse labored breathing.  _ He really went all out, didn't he?  _ Claude suspects that he's completely out of it, but it seems that he completely forgot that  _ his darling king, out of all people, _ is on the more insatiable end of the spectrum when it comes to sexuality. A throaty growl from Dimitri's side comes rather unexpected.

**"I can still feel you quiver, my love.", ** he grunts in a rough tone, dragging his tongue over a broad stretch of Claude's neck.

A belated pang of pleasure travels straight to Claude's oversensitive clit, making him jolt anew in Dimitri's hold. At the same time, he clenches around his cock, still wedged deep inside him.  ** _He's hard, even after that._ **

"Oh no–  _ have mercy.", _ he whines, making a valiant attempt at sounding casual, only for his plea to end up as an awkward mix of genuine and joking. Claude is certainly in the mood for another round, but he's also well aware of his physical limits; he wouldn't survive another orgasm of this caliber right after.

Dimitri pulls away to face him and the look he receives gives him hope for the rest of the night

The monarch's gaze is half-lidded,  _ wanting. _ Nostrils flare with heated breaths and it's very, very clear that he's fighting with his urge to go another round. Claude's blood runs hot once more at such display, suddenly seeing himself in a quite similar predicament. Tension rises for a mere moment, albeit their lips meet in such violent fashion as if the two have been giving one another lustful looks across the throne room for an entire evening. Their kiss is nothing short of wanton, downright wolfish even, with teeth grazing tongues and spit en masse.

But then,  _ it ends.  _

It's surprising that Dimitri is the one to break their kiss, his expression having softened when he looks at Claude again.

"Will you await me in my chambers?", he says in such a sweet manner, completely unlike the growl he uttered mere moments ago. He's going to be the death of him one day. "I would like to continue but... I really,  ** _really_ ** need to have a word with Felix."

_ Goddess, _ if only Claude could think of something other than the fact that he can feel Dimitri's heartbeat against his insides. _ It takes him a moment to even realize that he was spoken to.  _

"Do I jus'... use the same excuse as always to get past your guard dogs?" 

It's nothing new that he has to play the part of honorable mention as the king's favourite courtesan because goddess knows what kinda hell would break loose if people knew that the king of Fódlan has been shagging the Almyran king's son. Sure, things are pretty good between the two kingdoms (well, according to the circumstances at least),  _ but… not that good.  _

"Yes, it… _I_ _ t would be for the best." _

_ Oh  _ ** _boy,_ ** _ he simply cannot wait for the walk of shame past the kingly chamber guards while trying to avoid waddling like he just shat himself. _

Claude grunts when Dimitri pulls out, leaving him feeling horribly empty. It takes about a split second for a slow pitter-patter of liquid hitting stone to follow. He cringes at both the implications and the sensation alike, a sharp breath sucked through clenched teeth. As much as he  _ loves _ being bred to the point where Dimitri's name is the only thing that leaves his mouth, he could live without this part.

Cue his lover  **immediately** looking down at the sound. His ears turn fire-red as he seems to notice the mess that's slowly but surely unfolding.

"That's… not all mine, right?"

"It's mine too." 

Sex is fun and an enrichment to their relationship,  _ yada-yada, _ but Claude could also  ** _really_ ** live without his body producing a whole pint of cum every time Dimitri takes him. It's milky, it's thick, it's  _ disgusting, _ and it leaves godawful stains.  ** _Ugh._ **

He can't help but _ grunt-whine  _ in self pity as he frantically searches his coat for anything, eventually being able to hand the other a handkerchief, "Quick, wipe me down."

And that Dimitri does without objecting, as tender as one can be when wiping their significant other's private parts, only to fold the dirtied piece of cloth and stuff it into one of his pockets afterwards. 

_ "Ew."  _ Claude  **really** couldn't help it.

"I'm confident that I won't be needing my clothes soon enough.", Dimitri tells him, unable to keep a small, horribly self-satisfied smile to himself. He proceeds to help Claude with pulling his pants and underwear back over his other leg, then gently assisting him in settling down on to the ornate stone ledge.  _ There's really no telling how grateful he is. _

_ However, the picture that is laid out then and there is truly a sight to behold. _

Claude von Riegan, _established __nobleman and next in line for the Almyran throne,_ sitting with his naked ass on a cold ledge, _a crime scene_ having unfolded on the floor between his boots and another, even bigger mess between his thighs. Not to to mention that both his trousers and underwear are pulled only up to his knees. The look on his face could be described as expression of pure despair, whereas others would see his visage as devoid of all emotions. Because that's how he feels: empty– _and vastly pent up._ _However, if that wasn't enough already…_

It comes sudden, without much of that terrible foreboding itch in ones nose. Claude sneezes unlike he's ever sneezed before, his surprised shout resounding through the hall and the entirety of the courtyard.  **Oh, great.** So that's what he gets for not being able to wait with his lust, huh?  ** _The temperature wouldn't have been a problem back in Almyra, that's for sure._ **

_ "Oh no.", _ comes the gentle gasp from Dimitri when he notices the look of sheer terror on Claude's face after sneezing his lungs out. Having to sneeze isn't fun to begin with, but it's even worse when there's…  **stuff** inside you that would easily start oozing out after a good ol' full body clench.

"Just.", he begins but comes to a halt immediately after, a hand slowly brought up to his face in order to obscure the view on his quickly reddening face, "Just get me to your washroom.  **Right now. ** Your advisor can wait another minute."

Dimitri is likely unable to believe his own course of action right now, that he's making his trusted ally and best friend wait on him so he can run his sweetheart a hot bath after their more than just risqué meeting, but there's no sign of hesitation in his ways.

Meanwhile, Claude has utilize every bit of self control and spirit left in him to waddle around the castle  _ with pride and grace. _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! (twit is bunshima if you want to yell at me about this atrocity)


End file.
